


You're Still In Boxer Hell

by SEABlRD



Series: Brief Encounters of the... Awkward kind...? [2]
Category: Undertale
Genre: Frisk has done a good and everybody is on the surface, Other, POV Second Person, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader-Insert, theres quite a bit of swearing in this one, you get Nicecream and everything is fantastic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 14:16:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6523519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SEABlRD/pseuds/SEABlRD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the second time you and Sans meet, and you're going to get Nicecream! good shit all around really<br/>-------------<br/>Part 2 of "Something about Cats and Boxers"!</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Still In Boxer Hell

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so overwhelmed at the amount of feedback I got on part 1 honestly ??? I can't believe you guys liked it that much, gosh /)///(\ [I even got some fanart from the lovely @Wolfoxymy](http://summerbxy.tumblr.com/post/142514154287/wolfoxymy-so-i-found-a-really-cute-story-its) <3 <3 <3
> 
> as thanks I wanted to put out a part 2 for you all! <3
> 
> prompt by @DollBlood! my editing policy is still "don't", so I hope there aren't too many errors in here? please tell me if you see any!

Do you have your shit together? You’d like to say ‘yes’ but you know deep, deep down that the answer is ‘probably not’. Partly because of your own laziness and tendency for procrastination, but also because of your asshole cat and his awful habit of stealing everything.

Why is this a problem? Earlier today you had successfully returned about twenty pairs of the same boxers to their owner, who happened to be a punny skeleton monster with a cute blush. Those same boxers have been giving you grief since the beginning of summer, so you don’t know why that would have changed when you gave them back.

Because why should anything in your life ever go as planned?

After the initial meeting with Sans at 6am, you’d done exactly what any sensible person on their summer break would do. You went right back to sleep. Looking back on it, that was probably not the wisest decision to make. Especially with your window open and your pet kleptomaniac still awake and active.

You’d promised Sans an outing to get Nicecream at around noon, which happens to be the exact time you’d woken up (of course). In your mad dash to get decently dressed and out the door, you’d grabbed the closest clothes that looked good together you could get your hands on. You didn’t even bother to check what it all looked like, it was just a shirt and a pair of jean Bermuda shorts, right? It’s really just not your day, today.

“Are you alright there, buddy?” Sans’ question breaks through your self-reflective haze.

No. “Yeah, i’m good. It’s all good.” Because there’s no way in hell you’re about to tell him that you’re accidentally wearing one of his boxers under these sweet jorts of yours.

How did this happen? Well, your cat sleeps near your bed, and your window was open. Given Jug’s recent obsession with bone-print boxers, you should have known that he would bring back another pair even after you’d returned them all to Sans. And, of course, he would put it near your bed. Really, you should have seen this coming. It’s a wonder you didn’t notice earlier, with how uncharacteristically baggy the boxers you chose were compared to your own.

“Let’s head to the nearest Nicecream stand, shall we?” You ask, pointing in the general direction of the last stand you remembered seeing.

“Yeah, in a sec.” Sans stops you. “We’re just waiting for my bro. He wants me to walk him to his first day at work.”

Okay, you can live with that. Besides, you need to meet this wonderful, artistically inclined brother of his so that you can fully appreciate the work of art you’re currently wearing. As you wait, you take a moment to observe that Sans is still wearing that hoodie from this morning.

“How can you stand to wear that?” You point at the offending garment. “It’s like, a million degrees outside. Are you not stewing in your own sweat already?”

“I am very certain that it’s scientifically impossible for it to be a million degrees _and_ for you to be alive at the exact same time,” Sans rolls his eyes at you, the cheeky fuck. “And I’ll have you know that I am entirely made of bones and magic, so I can’t stew in my own sweat.”

“That’s a lie and you know it. I saw you sweat this morning when I asked you ou-”

“HERE I AM, BROTHER!” You jump at the unmistakable sound of someone hollering in your ear. “I APOLOGIZE FOR MY LATENESS, I WAS LOOKING FOR THE BELT FOR MY BATTLE BODY!”

“Do you really need your battle body to go to work, bro?” Sans turns to the newcomer, seeming relieved, and gives him an amused look. You, also, turn to meet this brother of is. You just didn’t expect him to be so tall.

“OF COURSE! I MUST DRESS TO IMPRESS, AFTER ALL!”

Sans’ brother really is… imposing, to say the least. Definitely the kind of guy you wouldn’t want running at you in the dead of night at 90mph. He must easily be seven feet tall, if not more, and he’s built much lankier than Sans with long, spindly limbs that could no doubt tear you right in half if he wanted to. He really looks like the kind of skeleton you’d see in a horror movie. In fact, his skull shape looks much more pointy and human-like than Sans’; his jaw opens and closes and everything! Oh, he’s looking at you. You try to look like you weren’t staring.

“HELLO, NEW HUMAN! I SEE YOU HAVE BEEN SUCCESSFULLY IMPRESSED WITH MYSELF, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” He (Papyrus?) screams. “I DO NOT BLAME YOU, I AM QUITE THE SIGHT TO TAKE IN, AFTER ALL.”

You tentatively put your hand out for him to shake. “It’s nice to meet you, uh, Papyrus,” you phrase it more like a question.

He seems pleased anyway and takes your hand in his large red mittens (what the fuck), shaking it vigorously. “IT IS A PLEASURE TO MEET YOU AS WELL, NEW HUMAN!”

“Alright, well, let’s hit the road.” Sans interrupts you before you can introduce yourself to him. Papyrus enthusiastically starts down the sidewalk, almost walking face first into a lamp post in his hurry. Sans turns to you.

“Isn’t he cool?” He asks. You nod, even though you’re not quite sure what you think of Papyrus yet. “Don’t bother telling him your name for now, he’ll just call you ‘new human’ for about a month. But don’t worry, he’ll ask you about it when he’s ready.”

Well that seems a bit rude to you, but you don’t know how monster customs work. For all you know, you could have broken at least three monster greeting traditions in the last day. Whatever. You can think more about it in a month.

You and Sans follow behind Papyrus as he rambles on about how glad he is that he’d finally gotten a job. From the sounds of it, it must be a very action-packed and adventurous job. It’s also at this time that you realize that, no, he really isn’t capable of talking any less loudly. His only two settings are ‘talking’ and ‘not talking’, it would appear.

“That sounds really awesome, Papyrus!” You encourage him. He gives you a bright smile in return.

“INDEED IT IS! A JOB WORTHY OF MYSELF!” He states proudly.

Sans looks like he’s daydreaming. You elbow him and give him a questioning look.

“Huh? Oh, right. When did you say your job started, Paps?” He asks, which is a really random question since the answer is obviously sometime today. Papyrus’ face becomes very stern as he thinks.

“I BELIEVE MY EMPLOYER HAD SAID SOMETHING ABOUT ELEVEN-THIRTY?” He offers, while you and Sans share a look.

“You mean… half an hour ago…?” Sans offers in return. You check your phone and- yep, 11:30am was a little over half an hour ago.

That’s when everything goes from good to great. Papyrus goes completely ballistic, reaching volumes that hit decibels well over your hearing range, and books it down the sidewalk while screaming.

You’re not really sure what your face is doing but it feels like some kind of amused, slightly dazed smile. You keep walking, because what can you say? What is there to say when you’re pretty sure you won’t be able to hear properly for the next few minutes?

Sans doesn’t say anything either, so you walk in awkward silence toward the Nicecream stand. Your hands are getting sweaty and you distantly remember the fact that you’re wearing his boxers under your shorts. They’re slowly slipping off your hips because they’re much too big for you, rubbing against the top of your thighs in a sinful reminder of your mistake. You try to pull them up discreetly but it feels as though Sans is watching your every move.

“You’re looking pretty red there, buddy.” He remarks, tilting his head to the side. “The heat getting to ya?”

You shake your head and wave your hand weakly. Curse you and your easy blushing! “I’m fine, just a little tired.”

Sans doesn’t look convinced but doesn’t press further, which you internally cheer about. You round the corner and see the Nicecream stand in the distance, stationed right in the park near a sand pit for the kids. The vendor is animatedly giving Nicecream to the kids who are buying, sending them off with a treat and a smile. The vendor is also remarkably familiar.

You turn to Sans and silently ask if he knew about this. He silently replies with a shrug and a wink, and a ‘why would I not?’ kind of look. That asshole. You both turn to the cart as you reach it.

“Hey, Paps.” Sans greets his brother as the two of you step up to the cart. Papyrus turns to you with stars in his eyes.

“BROTHER! HUMAN! THANK YOU BOTH FOR WALKING ME TO MY JOB!” He sounds so sincere that you can’t bother to tell him that he mostly ran to his job on his own. Sprinted, really.

Sans just shrugs again. “No problem, bro. Anytime.”

You fish the two coupons out of your jort pockets and hand them to Papyrus. If he was happy to see you a few seconds ago, it’s nothing compared to the excited blaze in his eye he has now.

“HUMAN! I SEE YOU ARE IN POSSESSION OF THE COUPONS I PUT ON THE CORKBOARD YESTERDAY!” He shouts, smile growing impossibly wide. “I AM GLAD! THEY HAVE GONE TO QUITE A DESERVING PERSON!”

You’re so surprised at his statement that you can’t even think of anything to say to thank him. Instead, you blush furiously and blubber like an idiot.

“I- no, I just saw them a- and took them…” you rub the back of your neck and make a face at the wetness you feel there.

“NONSENSE! YOU ARE THE ONE WHO PUT UP THE FLIER TO RETURN MY BROTHER’S UNDERWEAR, ARE YOU NOT? I SAW THAT THEY WERE MISSING THIS MORNING AND YOUR FLIER HAD TAKEN THEIR PLACE! IT WAS FATED FOR YOU TO FIND THEM WHEN YOU DID AND, THEREFORE, YOU HAVE EARNED YOURSELF A TREAT FOR A GOOD DEED!”

Well shit, that was your logic from yesterday, too.

“Really, it wasn’t a big deal, Papyrus, but thank you for your kind words!” You give him a smile and open your arms.

You realize your mistake too late when your vision is suddenly filled with Papyrus’s face as he tackles you from over the counter. You almost fall over, if not for Papyrus holding you up in a (ha!) bone-crushing hug.

Someone clears their throat and Papyrus lets you go with a long-suffering sigh. Sans is standing beside you with his right hand in the pocket of his hoodie and the left one holding the two tickets which you must have dropped when Papyrus decked you.

“As great as it is that you two are getting along, we _did_ come here for a reason other than walking you here, bro.” He waves the two coupons toward Papyrus, who accepts them happily.

“OF COURSE, BROTHER! WHAT FLAVOUR WOULD YOU TWO LIKE?”

As you and Sans browse the chart of flavours you quickly reach into the waistband of your shorts and pull up the falling boxers as best as you can before anyone notices you. But Papyrus notices you. His eye-holes zero in on the barely-visible bone print that you try to hide with the hem of your shirt. His grin turns devious and you shoot him a desperate look to keep his unsubtle mouth shut.

“What do you think, pal?” Sans turns to you just in time to see you shaking your head at Papyrus, who is enthusiastically nodding his head in return. You stop your silent exchange to pick a flavour and escape before Papyrus can rain total embarrassing annihilation on you, ignoring Sans’ quizzical look.

“You know what, that echoberry flavor sounds interesting.” You reply hastily. “Let’s go with something like that!”

You give Papyrus an evil glare as Sans orders two echoberry Nicecreams. Papyrus returns your glare with an innocent look of his own. You can’t get out of there fast enough when Sans has both Nicecreams in his hands. You grab him and nearly sprint in any direction that takes you away from that Nicecream stand and that fake-innocent skeleton brother.

Sans is out of breath and you’re sweating by the time you reach a park bench that is far enough from the Nicecream stand and, thankfully, it’s right by a small pond. The breeze coming over the water is slightly cooler than the air around you, which you are very grateful for.

“Let’s sit here!” You claim your seat and pat the bench, inviting Sans to sit on that side. He chuckles and takes his seat, handing you one of the Nicecreams.

You both tear the wrappers off your treats and stick the bright blue popsicles in your mouths. You look at the wrapper and smile around your cold mouthful. It’s a picture of two people hugging. The strange flavour explodes on your tongue, reminding you slightly of strawberries, cherries, and cotton candy.

“Wow, this is really good! What’s it made of?” You muse out loud, taking another taste of the cold treat.

“It’s made with the berries of the echo flower plant,” Sans explains, biting off a small chunk of his Nicecream. You shudder at the thought of biting into anything that cold. “Echo flowers are flowers that repeat the last thing they heard, hence the name ‘echo’. They produce berries every couple of seasons. It’s not regular, really, so sometimes we can go for entire years without seeing any berries, but since there are so many echo flowers there’s no real shortage of them anyway.”

You process this for a bit, nodding. “That’s pretty cool. We have something similar up here called bunchberries, but they make berries on a pretty regular seasonal schedule.”

Sans looks vaguely surprised. “Do they echo the last thing they heard, too?”

“No way! They’d be so much more interesting if they did, though.” You giggle, thinking of the small plants and imagining a clump of them screaming at each other in increasingly high pitches.

You continue to wheeze at the mental image of squeaking flowers and Sans chuckles with you, most likely out of amusement at your own reaction than anything else.

“Okay so, business.” Sans interrupts your laughter with an uncharacteristically serious tone. You stop laughing and turn toward him. In the few hours that you’ve known him, he has been nothing but laid back and a little goofy. Where did this serious skeleton come from, and can you have his number?

“Business?” You squeak, ashamed at your own voice for a good couple of seconds.

“Yes. Like, why is your cat named Quadratojugal?”

Fuck, you’d been hoping he would have forgotten that by now. You roll your shoulders back and take a deep breath.

“Okay, well, when I was younger and still living with my parents, we had this cat named Frog. She was the sweetest thing, and possibly my favourite cat on earth. Even more than Jug!” You smile at the memory of the little grey tabby. You aren’t lying, Frog was a complete angel compared to Jug. “Anyway, I was at that stage in life where dissecting frogs in science class was an anticipated experience, so I’d been looking up the anatomy of frogs for a long while.

When Frog came home pregnant one day, I knew that I would have to do the absolute nerdiest thing possible and name all the kittens after parts of a frog. Jug has two sisters, Vomerine and Urostyle. Just Vom and Uro for short, though. He had a brother, too, but… he, uh, didn’t make it. We would’ve named him Pterygoid.”

“You realize that those are all bones, right?” Sans points out, and you know exactly what he means. He’s right, too. No matter which cat you’d brought with you, you would have had a skeleton pun to make. Well, maybe the other two aren’t bratty little thieves and you would have avoided this entire encounter to begin with.

“Give me a break, it’s not like I was about to call my cats something like ‘Cloaca’.” You defend your name choices, pouting a bit at Sans’ laughing expression. His eye lights are trained on you and he has this absolute shit-eating grin on his face that makes you want to push him off the bench.

Sans snorts (you still don’t know how he does it) and goes to say something. Oh no. You left yourself wide open for this one.

“That would have been a,” he stops to snigger at his own joke. You groan in advance at what you know is coming. “A pretty _shitty_ name.”

“Yeah, it really _takes the piss._ ” You add, not really sure if that particular phrase fits with the context you’re using it in, but it makes Sans throw his head back and howl with mirth anyway. He laughs so much harder than he did at your jokes this morning, and you can’t help but notice how much more sincere he sounds when he isn’t awkwardly holding a basket of underwear in a stranger’s (your) apartment.

You can’t help it. A ridiculous grin breaks out on your own face and you join Sans in his uncontrollable cackling. A few people stop and stare at the two of you but you really can’t be bothered to care.

You’re the one who stops first, unsurprisingly. Sans is still wheezing and wiping his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie. You press a closed fist to your mouth to stop a goofy smile from forming there but you only feel yourself fail. You hope you can hear, and maybe be the cause of that laughter for many occasions to come. Is that too cliché?

Finally, Sans stops laughing (unfortunately). He shakes his head and sighs, leaning his head a bit on his shoulder to look at you.

“I haven’t laughed like that in such a long time.” He confesses, and you feel redness cover your face again. “Not many people bother to joke with me, anymore.”

That makes you sad, for some reason. You pat his arm in awkward reassurance, though the movement startles him so bad he almost drops his Nicecream.

“Sorry! I just, I wanted to say that…” You hesitate on the rest of your sentence. Sans is looking at you half expectantly and half like he’s expecting disappointment. If only you could learn to keep talking when it counts. Why are you like this. “Uh, I wanted to say….”

You trail off and look away, mortified at your inability to socialize properly. Sans shifts under your touch and you let your hand fall away. You watch the surface of the pond ripple with the breeze, the calm water only broken by a small seagull wading through the shallow end.

Your thoughts wander as you finish your Nicecream, chewing on the wooden stick gently. The treat definitely cheered you up some, and you feel much better than if you’d have stayed in your apartment alone. Being alone always sucks.

You lean against Sans and nudge him with your shoulder. His eye lights flick toward you to show that he’s paying attention.

“I wouldn’t mind joking with you some more,” you tell him. His eye sockets widen at your bold statement. “I have a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other now, if that doesn’t bother you too much.”

He doesn’t say anything for a very long time. The sun is beginning to pass it’s highest point and slowly dips toward the horizon. You remember your engagement for tonight and stand up, nudging Sans with your knee.

“I gotta go home, buddy.” You say. “I have somewhere to be tonight, and I have to start getting ready to go now.”

Sans nods in understanding and stands as well. “I’ll walk back with you, then?”

You shrug and start heading back. Sans falls into step beside you and you walk back to your building in comfortable silence. You have a nagging feeling like you’re forgetting something, but it can’t be very important if you didn’t remember in the first place.

Sans even follows you up the stairs, even though he complains the whole time. You tell him that it’s better for his health to take the stairs, anyway.

You reach your apartment sooner than you’d like, and you’re almost disappointed that you don’t have more time to spend with Sans. You cast a glance over your shoulder at the quiet skeleton, chucking a bit at the small wave he gives you. You wave back and open your door.

“I wouldn’t mind either”

Huh? You turn to face him fully, the question on your face demanding that he clarify what he means. His face turns a light blue and he looks away.

“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind seeing more of you.” He elaborates, and your eyebrows fly up. Does he know what he just said? A smirk spreads across your face slowly and Sans must have noticed because his flush deepens and he shakes his head quickly.

“No no no, not like that! That’s not what I-”

You cut him off by letting out a loud guffaw. He stares at you as you cover your mouth with your hand even though your eyes betray your amusement.

“It’s fine, I get it.” You reply, nodding in understanding. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

He nods. “Yeah.”

You finally say your goodbyes for good, though neither of you see the soft look of disappointment on the other’s face as you go your separate ways. Jug watches you from his spot on the counter, meowing in displeasure at the lack of food in his bowl. You refill it with a sigh before heading to your room to change.

It’s when you pull off your shorts that you remember what you forgot to ask. The cheery bone print of Sans’ boxers stare up at you and you slap a hand over your eyes in exasperation. Whatever. You’ll toss these in the wash later and give them back tomorrow or something, and hopefully you’ll remember to ask Sans why he wears boxers then.

Man, you really need to get your shit together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! \\(^_^)/
> 
> if you have any prompt ideas for me you can drop them [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6465400/chapters/14817817)!


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